‘I suspect my “gentleman” includes your “true man."’

’And a great deal more, you would imply.  I differ from you.  A man is to me a higher and a completer being than a gentleman.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Margaret.  ’We must understand the words differently.’

’I take it that “gentleman” is a term that only describes a person in his relation to others; but when we speak of him as “a man,” we consider him not merely with regard to his fellow-men, but in relation to himself,—­to life—­to time—­to eternity.  A cast-away lonely as Robinson Crusoe—­a prisoner immured in a dungeon for life—­nay, even a saint in Patmos, has his endurance, his strength, his faith, best described by being spoken of as “a man.”  I am rather weary of this word “gentlemanly,” which seems to me to be often inappropriately used, and often, too, with such exaggerated distortion of meaning, while the full simplicity of the noun “man,” and the adjective “manly” are unacknowledged—­that I am induced to class it with the cant of the day.’

Margaret thought a moment,—­but before she could speak her slow conviction, he was called away by some of the eager manufacturers, whose speeches she could not hear, though she could guess at their import by the short clear answers Mr. Thornton gave, which came steady and firm as the boom of a distant minute gun.  They were evidently talking of the turn-out, and suggesting what course had best be pursued.  She heard Mr. Thornton say: 

‘That has been done.’  Then came a hurried murmur, in which two or three joined.

‘All those arrangements have been made.’

Some doubts were implied, some difficulties named by Mr. Slickson, who took hold of Mr. Thornton’s arm, the better to impress his words.  Mr. Thornton moved slightly away, lifted his eyebrows a very little, and then replied: 

‘I take the risk.  You need not join in it unless you choose.’  Still some more fears were urged.

’I’m not afraid of anything so dastardly as incendiarism.  We are open enemies; and I can protect myself from any violence that I apprehend.  And I will assuredly protect all others who come to me for work.  They know my determination by this time, as well and as fully as you do.’

Mr. Horsfall took him a little on one side, as Margaret conjectured, to ask him some other question about the strike; but, in truth, it was to inquire who she herself was—­so quiet, so stately, and so beautiful.

‘A Milton lady?’ asked he, as the name was given.

‘No! from the south of England—­Hampshire, I believe,’ was the cold, indifferent answer.

Mrs. Slickson was catechising Fanny on the same subject.

’Who is that fine distinguished-looking girl? a sister of Mr. Horsfall’s?’

’Oh dear, no!  That is Mr. Hale, her father, talking now to Mr. Stephens.  He gives lessons; that is to say, he reads with young men.  My brother John goes to him twice a week, and so he begged mamma to ask them here, in hopes of getting him known.  I believe, we have some of their prospectuses, if you would like to have one.’